Pshh, Pshh


















BANG! BANG!

Honor beyond reaching for
and after all these years of quoting Falstaff,
saying, Pshh, Pshh, spittle coming
from my mouth on friends' floors,
I know something of what he was trying to say
pulling the bottle of wine from his holster.
Humbled comes next, by your friends.
Graced by Yanos Pilinszky's splinters,
your spikes in my heart
washed into the ancient patina
of stone. Honor beyond reaching,
unlike Jeffersonian reason. The eschaton
mocks Newton and Rousseau,
waving banners raised by Blake.
Blood-pumping. Blood-pumping.

Jim
28 June 2019


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